The Issues

I got another "God Bless" you today over the phone and subsequently it was another wrong number. I also got a women who called and when I answered "Archdiocese of Boston" she goes "yes?" as if I called her and proceeded to get annoyed/confused until she hung up. Senior demetia is so silly.

I get an hour off for lunch which I usually spend in the breakroom reading and eavesdropping on other peoples conversations. There are 4 circular tables with about 3-4 chairs at each, which works out well because there are probably 3 or 4 people who eat lunch at a time and they all insist on eating at their own table, yet engaging in conversations with each other. The breakroom is located in the basement and apparently is known as the "womens breakroom" because there is only a womens bathroom there and a pink floral couch. However, it should be known, or is known to me, as the "45-yr-old-and-up-busy-body-womens lunching room." Boston accents required. I usually get about a half an hour to myself before I am invaded by 3-4 women who sit and eat their Tupperware salads or Progresso soup. All these women are on constant diets that dont, shall we say, give off the impression that they are working. Today I got to listen to 3 women discuss "Dancing with the Stars," a favorite in the "lunching room," the trials and tribulations of one woman's son and "Hindu daughter-in-law" who loved each other very much but just couldn't make it work and the critical analysis (or befuddlement) of the movies Gone Baby Gone (too dark), the Darjeeling Limited ("I didnt get the comedy") and There Will Be Blood ("it was so violent, blood everywhere" - obviously she didnt see that coming from the title), which provoked the hilarious reference to Daniel Day-Lewis as "that Spanish actor."

*****Breaking news flash******
I have just received the call of all calls. The Trump call, if you will. A woman just called very distressed and said she needed to speak to a priest because she needed to be exorcised! She said she had "dark spirits inside her" and needed to get them out. I offered to get rid of them for her, but she was having none of it. I have been waiting for this call ever since I was offered to take this job through my temp agency. Now I can go forth from this job knowing I came in contact with the Catholic crazies. God Bless this woman.

the Precious

I just received a automated voice solicitor who wanted to know if I had $10,000 - $20,000 dollars of start up capital to invest in the up and coming market of gold and other precious metals. Apparently, according to automated voice guy, with India and China growing at their current economic rate, precious metals is a lucrative business. I want in on this scam.

G&T

First call of the day: after I greet some woman with my usual "Archdiocese of Boston," she panics because she has the wrong number and does this "arch?...oh...uh...I, um..hey, well God Bless you...sorry, I...have the wrong number." I bet she hung up the phone and was like "God Bless you?!" Either that or she did something really horrible and saw the wrong number to the Archdiocese as a sign she should start repenting. I like to think its the latter.

I got another wrong number yesterday from a guy who said he got this number from craigslist to buy a motorcycle. He kept on insisting this was the number he got off craigslist even after I assured him 3 times that this was in fact the Archdiocese and I have no motorcycle for him. This is either a sign from God that he shouldnt get the motorcycle and that he risks dying a horrible death or he just needs to pay better attention when he copies numbers downs off of craigslist. I like to think its the former.

Runner up for best call of the day was a guy whose cousin was trying to convert him and he wasnt having it, so he wanted to talk to someone about why they try to convert people and how to get his cousin to stop. I dont know why he called the Archdiocese about NOT wanting to convert, but if this guy wants to take on the church more power to them.

You know how sometimes old people have this one joke they tell over and over again because they think its hilarious and dont pick up on the fact that the joke isnt funny once you've told it 5 billion times? God smite me if I ever start doing that, but theres this woman who everyday at around 3pm get a cup of water and if anyone runs into her doing this she goes "time for my G&T!" In the past 2 and a half weeks Ive heard her make this joke probably about 5 times and thats only when someone runs into her right outside my door. I cant imagine how many times she makes this joke a day and how many people still sympathy laugh. I wonder if I could get away with bringing a cocktail to work and if I got caught be like "oh, I thought Karen has a G&T everyday." In fact Ive often wonder about drinking/smoking at work. I think I feel an experiment coming on...

This Shit is Bananas

Its Maundy Thursday here at the Archdiocese! People are VERY excited for Easter weekend. The front office was flooded with flowers for pretty much everyone but me :( but if there are any left over when I leave today I plan on stealing some. Archdiocese or not, I want some flowers. Apparently people have been getting a lot of easter baskets too, because Father Erikson stopped by to wish me a Happy Easter and offer me something from his overflowing Easter basket, which was filled with really weird shit. Items included Triscuts, a block of cheddar cheese, apples, bananas, peanut butter and something that looked like rock candy. Who gets an Easter basket like that? It looked like he swiped it from a homeless shelter or something. Im sure he didnt. Anyway, he offered me anything out of his basket so I took the bananas. Seven free bananas. Sweet.

Blessed Holy weekend to all!

You're A Queer One

In the elevator when some guy asked my name he told me that I was named after a very famous saint and "Julie" is often the middle name of many sisters. I didn't want to burst his bubble, so I didn't tell him that I was actually named after Julie Jordan from the musical Carousel who was beaten by her drunkard husband.

There she is!

There's this guy that works in the Catholic Appeal office who everytime he calls the front desk where I answer the phone greets me with "There she is!" Everytime. It's profoundly annoying. I finally met him in person the other day and he shook my hand extremely vigorously and for an oddly long time. I don't like this guy.

La Bomba

On two separate occasions today when I called people to tell them they had mail dropped off for them their reply is: "Its not ticking, is it?" I feel like thats an issue.

Death Becomes Her

Ironically, so far on the way to work over the past two days Ive come dangerously close to killing two to three people. I guess this wouldn't really be ironic unless I did kill them and they were all Catholic, but whatever. I am well aware of my rap ore as a driver (2 fast and 2 furious), but these two or three people were being unbelievably stupid. One was a little asian woman who ran out into the middle of Commonwealth Ave during a green light. wtf? Are all stupid people legally required to wander the streets at 8am or is it a personal stupid choice? Seriously, stay on the sidewalk and don't run in front of my car on the way to work when Im already late, please and thank you!

Oh, and yesterday some 80 year-old woman called long distance about an exorcism done in Boston. This is my life.

In other tragic news, I forgot my lunch today!

God Bless

Some sister just called asking about Papal tickets (get them while they're still available!) and ended the call with "God Bless." Since that has never happened to me before (on the phone or in life) and it kind of caught me off guard, this was my response: "Alright." I felt like an asshole for about 10 seconds after the call, but thats about it.

In other Catholic related news, I received a bunch of office emails regarding updates on all the happenings for this coming Easter weekend! If anyone would like to attend a mass, please let me know. I got the hook up. There were a couple of good ones, but this one regarding Holy Oil is my favorite:

"Please remember that you are not allowed to fill large vessels or flagons with Holy Oil. Last year, because of such requests, there was not enough Holy Oil for all." Im sorry, LARGE VESSELS OR FLAGONS?! The visual I get from those two sentences are of little old ladies wheeling wooden barrels down church aisles or soccer moms with empty plastic diet coke liter bottles.

So, you know how there is that whole conception of how Catholics view female Protestants as whores? If that is not an actual conception (or a misconception if you will) then I just picked that up from Family Guy. In any case, I think I just proved it true, because I got "talked to" yesterday about work clothing. Yesterday I wore a scoop neck shirt. Not a very significant scoop, it revealed my neck and upper chest, no cleavage. At the end of the day when I get home I get a phone call from my Temp agency telling me that the Archdiocese would like me to dress more appropriately with no more "revealing tops." What really gets my goat about this is that the powers that be at the Archdiocese who were offended by my neck didn't come to me themselves and tell me in their nice Godly way that I cant wear scoop neck to work, but instead called up my Temp agency and had them do it. Im not a very confrontational person. I dont understand those people on the Real World who are like "If you've got something to say to me, say it to my face!" No, I'd rather you left the room first. I don't have to worry about you yelling at me and I can be funnier. However, having my Temp agency tell me I need to dress more appropriately made me feel somewhat whore-ish. I know they know Im not Catholic and am not use to working in a religious environment, but just getting that call made me feel like I needed to explain myself, which made me angry. Im not showing up wearing fishnet stalkings, a bustier and knee high boots (thats for my other job, wink!) so shut up and let me answer the phone in a scoop neck T!

That concludes this mornings thoughts. Thank you and God Bless!

I am white, hear me roar

From the list on the website Stuffwhitepeoplelike.com I scored myself at 44 out of 89 topics listed including having gay friends (shout out to Mark and Michael!), bottled water, expensive sanwiches, kitchen gadgets, Art degrees and tea. Im not sure what this says about me as a white person, Im just putting it out there since I took the time to score myself when thats not even an option listed on the website.

Good Morning, Archdiocese of Boston

I am not a very technological person. Nor am I an internet person. I can turn on the computer and I can browse facebook and youtube and I can access my email, but that's pretty much it. I never considered blogging. I am not a blogger. When I think of bloggers I think of zealous myspacers and Perez Hilton. And Lucy. But when life hands you lemons, you shut up and make lemonade. So here is my blog narrating my time as the receptionist for the Archdiocese of Boston.

This year has without a doubt has been the strangest of my life thus far. I can't even categorize it as good or bad, just really fucking weird. I went from studying Art History in college, to cruising my way through a BS internship this summer, to hating my life at a bead store, to being let go from said bead store and being unemployed for two months, to accepting a 3 month position as the receptionist at the Archdiocese of Boston. If someone had told me in May that this is what my life will become I would have told them to stop sniffing glue. I can only hope that Graduate school pulls through and I wont have to worry about accepting positions like operating the switchboard at the Zionist Organization of America.

I am not Catholic, I am a Protestant. An out of practice Protestant at that and I have no idea what Catholics do, besides be really nervous. Catholics are nervous about everything. This is basically because everything about contemporary life will send you straight to hell. Pre-marital sex, gay marriage and being gay in general, abortion, stem cell research, doing things on Sunday, democrats, sexual misconduct of priests (justified nervousness), divorce and the Apocalypse. Its a wonder Catholics don't go around shaking like Chihuahua all the time. Its weird to be a fish out of water just by being a different religion, but its freaking surreal when you go from zero Catholic interaction to spending 8 hours of your day surrounded by priests and nuns and the people that work for them. I can tell if Brother Peterson is coming down the hall because I can hear his prayer beads. I dont know if when I see certain people if I should address them as "Father" or not. When I get dressed in the morning to go to work I have to make sure I dont look like a slut by Catholic standards, and I still dont really know what those standards are. Apparently shoulders and knees are too sexy to be exposed. Who knew? I didn't.

This is the beginning of my second week, here are some highlights thus far:
1. The lack of tampon machines in the womens bathroom and how their absence makes the "sanitary napkin" machines stick out like a sore thumb
2. The people that call looking for answers to their questions on abortion, stem cell research and (my personal favorite) a man called to make a complaint about a priest in his parish, but not a "sexual complaint." As long as it's not sexual...
3. Jean, the woman who covers me when I take my break who carries a bottle of rubbing alcohol with her at all times to wipe down the phone before she touches it. It has yet to be determined if this a direct comment at me, or if she wipes down every phone before she uses it.
4. The woman who consistently drops off shopping bags full of hand knit baby blankets to be picked up by the Pro-Life department.
5. The priests that stare me down as they walk in the door as well as those who talk to me like Im an idiot in a way that makes me believe this attitude is provoked by my being a female. Its just a suspicion.

This blog is meant to basically be a stream on consciousness on my part as well as an alternate way to kill time. Don't tell anyone at the Archdiocese about this, or I may be fired. Hannah, this means you.